Chris Rivers
Chris Rivers - 2015 Doomsday Cypher
[Verse 1: With Instrumental]
For the pinnacle
Dodging shots, they're not critical
Rocks in the blocks, the cops'll lock minerals
Stop, it's not literal
Socks are not spiritual
Feel the Earth for writing this verse, it's tots lyrical
Bronze general, in general, part getting you
Bitches love my caramel skin, it's not edible
The non-credited, incredible
On chemicals, hung genitals
Don't stress if it's not revenue
Uh, this our straight up out of war shit
Empty fridges, tired of bull, living in horse shit
Who you know is harder than Chris? N***as should forfeit
Need a forklift, some of my fourth-fifth n***as need more clips
Uh, just a good kid trying to live it
Just to picture the riches, always with this but never vivid
All the bitches told me, fronting, mind my business
So I'm minding my business, now my mind is my business
Kicking these rhythms, tryna get my moms out of the slums
Since out the kitchen, on a mission, written
Living these premonitions, it's been hard n***a
Show them bitches know how to park n***a
Set the bar, on God, barbarian bars n***a
Daddy left the lane but never needed cars
Ripped out the thousand audemars fitted so he could call quicker
Maybe bring me a star n***a
I know the pain made me a fuckin' star n***a
I hope you notice, never meant to leave without a notice
Third eviction notice, left a n***a feeling hopeless
Know I'm missing birthdays and neglecting y'all emotions
Rivers' 'bout to turn the money folder to an ocean
Momma think this hip hop shit really gonna make me different
They leery and think I'm gonna give into these bitches
Haters never see the swing come before the riches
Why I'm showing up to Sway in 1990 Honda Civics
Windows down, AC don't work
I'm 'bout to move to flipping keys if A to Z don't work
That will order fucking lames that basically don't work
Tryna living like mines then some pain won't hurt
Tryna live it like mines then some pain won't hurt
I live the fuckin' type of life where even pain won't hurt
Tryna live in mansions, you n***as don't understand, this is hard work
Part of the Gods in God's plans
Drop that real quick
Drop it real quick
I got...drop the beat

[Verse 2: Acapella]
Going through the motions like oceans
Boasting, I open, I'm holding the toaster's loaded
And pointing it at opponents
Posting our horses like Trojan horses
Ready for war and touring seeing whores
In your room while your lady calling
Nothing stay the same, face the pain
Like alkeys hate champagne
All up in the jungle, banana clips and orangutangs
Say my name, not King Kong, but I'll take a plane
Birds eye, boy meets world hoping to pang a change
Kermit state of mind is lethal to cerebral evil to Knievel
I need you but I'mma sleep with self-defenses all developed
Fuckin' people deceive you then mislead you
Hate that they wanna be you, it's clear that you n***as see-through
It's the flow Trojan, off the ropes, Hulk Hogan
My Hulk's smolding, stroke of my pen when I quote oceans
I'm so deep, soul speak from poverty
But n***as not knockers with Glocks popping for profits like a prophecy
Mocking me, you ain't got the knowledge yet
Mosh pit kinda stressed, got the blocks marching like it's Malcolm X
Monster flex, monstrous, Loch Ness with a consciousness
Lock arms and n***as drop bombs on some atomic shit
Reaping my foes, eating with the beast in the code
Feeding your soul, chicken soup with dreams in the bowl
Mean with the flow, defeat you like I'm eating your toes
Try to talk behind my back but I'm a beast in the post
And I ain't even got no reason to boast
I could walk on water, giant, I ain't even got no reason for boats
Born in hell, can't you tell? Ain't got no reason for coats
Bunch of shells with scrambled eggs is how you season a toast
All these garbage rappers leading the coast
Ghostwriter for hire, I'm about to start redeeming some throats
Pour so raw, uncooked, oh Lord, I got two right here if you're tryna lowball
Big fish unhooked, I could leave the Earth scared and sun shook
Cold verses I rehearse, wordsmith, leave you numb, look
I'm just a nerd that's good with words with a shot
I'm Larry Bird mixed with John Wilkes and some Bourbon, what a shot
I know some birds that check the seeds for they worth, like what a thot
I see some birds that's getting flipped for they words like what a pot
That's that temptation, that's that ten M's in friend's basements
But I'm chasing pennies with pens, performing at Penn Station
As long as it ain't a nine to five, I'd rather hustle and struggle and be the boss when I arrive
It's Rivers